


Fragranced

by msOdds



Series: Ghostmyers ABO AU [1]
Category: Dead by Daylight (Video Game)
Genre: Alpha/Alpha, Canon-Typical Violence, Claud is a good mom friend and you can't change my mind, Dubious Consent, M/M, Mating Cycles/In Heat, Multi, Nothing Explicit actually happens, Omegaverse, mentioning of other survivors and killers, yet - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-02
Updated: 2020-03-13
Packaged: 2021-02-27 18:41:15
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 6,890
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22990390
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msOdds/pseuds/msOdds
Summary: Most killers they get have been Alphas. It’s only fitting - that the more dominant caste is prone to be the aggressor. So for the longest of time, they assume the Ghostface must be one too.A series of events leads them to learn otherwise.
Relationships: Claudette Morel & Jake Park, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face & Jake Park, Danny "Jed Olsen" Johnson | The Ghost Face/Michael Myers, Evan MacMillan | The Trapper/Philip Ojomo | The Wraith, Julie/Frank Morrison, Michael Myers & Laurie Strode
Series: Ghostmyers ABO AU [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1664425
Comments: 12
Kudos: 167





	1. Chapter 1

The first time Claudette faced the Ghostface, she was taken aback by his scent.

It wasn’t bad in the way the Clown smelled: pungent like old cigars, sweat and beer, with an overabundance of sweetness due to the tonics he fashioned. It was muted and definitely artificial.

Killers, for the most part, smelled like themselves. Their scents might be corrupted by the Entity or masked by the gore of their victims but survivors could tell what castes they were without a problem. The Nurse was an Omega. Facing her in a trial always felt wrong because of how she smelled like safety and warmth, how she looked so frail, yet she was deadly and certainly not merciful. The Trapper was an Alpha, and so he looked, acted and smelled the part. His scent was overbearing to the point of unnerving. Jake always covered his nose when he learned he would be in the same trial as Evan. He had complained to her once, voice muffled through his scarf, that it reminded him too much of his father’s.

Claudette didn’t smell or hear Ghostface until he grabbed her off the generator she was repairing and threw her over his shoulder. It was only then, with her entire face in his personal space, did she take notice of a fragrance of what could only be best described as dollar-store colognes.

The notion that a killer could be using something so ordinary baffled her.

“Where do you think the guy gets perfumes in this place?” 

  
“I wouldn’t know, but I’d kill to get my hand on some too.” Ace, always the vainest of them all, laughed. “The one he used last trial was quite nice.”

It was more floral and the undertone of rubbing alcohol wasn’t as prominent. Definitely something more refined than his usual choice of colognes.

* * *

“Someone got his knot wet.” David commented from his spot on the floor.

The sleeves of his jacket were bloodied, but he was alive and well for now. Laurie glared dagger at him. Her nails dug into his bleeding forearm, causing him to hiss out in pain.

“Sorry.” She muttered, not at all apologetic. Her hands made quick work of wrapping up his injury with makeshift bandages. The polkadot fabric stripes, once belonging to an old bedsheet, was ridiculous on him, but they would have to do.

David cracked a toothy grin, “It’s alright love. I forgot how you get about your brother.”

“He’s not my brother.” She said without missing a beat.

The rotting floorboards downstair creaked. They were on their feet in seconds. Laurie pointed at the window, mouthing at the other to go. David nodded. He wanted to protest, but his handsome face was already pale from blood lost. The Englishman landed on the ground bellow with a barely suppressed grunt of pain and disappeared into the night fog.

Laurie creeped out into the hallway, hiding behind broken furnitures and junks. Michael’s stark white mask and blue coverall slowly emerged. He made a beeline for the room she’d been in moment ago, following the droplets of blood David left behind.

She studied him from where she hid. Michael appeared the same as always. Towering. Terrible. But, her blue eyes narrowed, his movement lacked its usual cut and dried efficiency and, dare she said, he seemed almost lazy in his search for survivors. She breathed in deeply, taking a lungful of his scent.  
  


There was something different about Michael that trial. Laurie thought she had imagined it at first. But after her second close encounter, her sensitive nose pinpointed exactly what was wrong with him. There was an unmistakable Omegan scent clinging to his natural one. It was faint, but definitely there; and the insinuation wasn’t missed.

Someone got laid, indeed. She wanted to laugh. It was unthinkable; a monster like Michael would sooner kill someone than bed them, but apparently he had done just that.

* * *

Jake thought he had seen it all. He had been slashed, stabbed, clawed, bitten, and sawed; his body had been mutilated in every way possible, only to be put back together again to suffer another day. But he had never felt pure terror as he did that day, when he woke up in Léry’s with a fire burning low in his belly.

Heat.

Unrelenting panic seized his lungs; Jake had to fight to breathe. He should have expected this, prepared for this. It was always a possibility - a sword hanging over all of the Omegas’ heads - that they would be picked for a trial while in heat. In the beginning, it had been the one thing Jake had dreaded the most, even more than the hum of Anna’s lullaby or the toll of Philip’s bell. Then one cycle turned into two, then three; the Entity never picked him when his heat came.

He had thought it to be a rare instant of mercy. He had been a fool to believe the Entity to be merciful.

“Jake?” Came a whisper. A hand set itself on his shoulder, grounding him. He blinked away the tears in his eyes and looked up at its owner. When did he start crying? When did he end up on the ground?

Claudette was kneeling in front of him. Her expression showed the kind of gentle concern that his mother used to show him. She was calm on the surface, but her eyes revealed the same turmoil that was quickly unraveling the saboteur.

“Claudette, I-I,” his voice was unsteady, “I’m going into heat. What do I… I can’t…“

She pulled him into a tight embrace. Jake let her, hiding his face in the crook of her neck, taking in a lungful of her soothing scent. “It’s alright,” she repeated, “it’s alright. It’s still early isn’t it? We can get out of here before the worst of it hits. Can you stand?”

He gave her a tight nod.

“Great. C’mon, let’s go find the others.”

She took his hand in hers. They navigated through the wreckage that was the treatment theatre. Flickering lights lit the narrow hallways. Snowflakes fell through the cracks in the walls, onto their clothes and melted away. The windows to their left would sometimes slam against their binds, mimicking the sound of someone shutting a chest. Jake held onto her like she was his only anchor.

All too soon, they reunited with Dwight and Laurie; and Claudette had to let go of him to join the other two by the generator they were working on. She quickly whispered something into their ears. Laurie’s face was serious. Dwight looked over his shoulder at him. Unlike Claudette, he was in a full blown panic mode.

“I-I can’t be here!” He exclaimed, face flushed. “Jake is going into heat!”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Dwight. We have to stick together for him.”

The young Alpha stammered some more, repeating over and over about how it was inappropriate. Jake looked down at his feet, the redness of his cheeks matched Dwight’s, but for an entire different reason. He hated feeling helpless.

“Fine.” He bit out bitterly. “I can go alone.”

“No!” It was both Dwight and Claudette, looking at him with wide eyes like he had grown a second head.

“It’s dangerous to go alone -”

“We don’t know where the killer is -“

“If anyone should go, it’s me. I’m a danger to Jake. And, and -”

“Are you listening to yourself, Dwight. You just said it’s -“

“I’ll go with Jake.” Laurie said at last. Her tone left no room for argument. “We can work faster if we spread out. And Dwight is right, he can’t be in the same place as Jake. You shouldn’t either,” she said before the other woman could protest, “you’re an Omega, his pheromone will affect you.”

Claudette wrung the hem of her jacket. The logic behind it was sound, didn’t mean she had to like it.“Watch him for us, ok?”

“The freaks won’t get him.” Laurie said gravely.

Most killers were Alphas. What would they do to a survivor in heat when they had no qualms about killing them?

That was hours ago. Jake’s palms were sweaty. He removed his gloves and put them away shakily. Everything was steadily growing too hot, too tight. The first hint of wetness between his legs wracked his frame with shudder. He took a break from the generator in front of him, breathing hard and fast.

What was taking them so long? Jake’s heart fluttered with fear. The theatre was too quiet. Besides the rhythmical hum of the generator and the odd crows’ screech echoing through the hallways, he hadn’t heard anything that could give away the existence of a killer, or Claudette and Dwight, for the matter. Together, those two should’ve been able to finish a generator by now.

“They’ll be alright.” Laurie said, although she didn’t sound like she was convinced by her own words. Jake’s already rosy cheeks turned a shade darker. She was doing all the work while he had to use all of his mind power just to make sure he didn’t cause anything to short-circuit.

A scream tore the dreary atmosphere in half, running through them like a sharp knife. The crows that had been making themselves comfortable on the dirty tiled floor took off in a frenzy of black feathers. And then, before either survivor could recover from the noisy assault, it was over.

A familiar sense of dread washed over them. Someone was caught.

It had sounded close as well, way too close. Their eyes met. Jake must have looked more frightful than he had wanted to, because Laurie’s face hardened. Not a single word was exchanged when she produced a broken tile piece out of her toolbox and dropped it into Jake’s lap. His fingers closed around it; and he dry swallowed, knowing the implication. It was sharp enough that one could cut themselves on the edges if they weren’t careful, sharp enough to stab.

With a curt nod, she stood up, dusting her pants as she did so, and left the communal bathroom they had been holing up in. Jake watched her go until she was out of sight, only then did he resume repairing the generator. It was just him now.

He stayed like that for what must be an eternity. Between the slick pouring out of his ass, the cramps building up in his belly, and the nagging fear that something was wrong, he made little progress. Only the weight of the ceramic shard on his thigh kept him away from screaming in frustration.

He bumped a wire he shouldn’t and didn’t have any time to cover his eyes before the generator exploded, illuminating the room for a split second. The burst of light revealed a hooded figure and a mask sprinkled with blood.

Jake fell back in shock, hitting hard wall. Dead end. He desperately looked to the door that was out of reach. Ghostface stepped forward, outstretching his free hand in an attempt to grab Jake, but the survivor was quicker. Jake seized the tile piece and slashed at the offending appendage. 

He pointed it at the other. Blood roared in his ears in tandem with his rabbit heart.

Ghostface brought his hand up to his face, giving it a once over. The ceramic shard did nothing to the leather glove, designed for wiping blood off his knife. He let out a sigh that, although distorted by some kind of voice changing device, still held the essence of an annoyed parent who just learned their child kicked the neighbor’s dog.

Jake suddenly felt small and ridiculous. The gravity of the situation dawned on him - he had threatened a killer with a broken piece of tile. Despite all of that, he stubbornly held onto his weapon. The air was filled with the noise of his ragged breathing. Less than 2 feet away, Ghostface stood patiently, staring, waiting, for what? They glared at each other, stuck in a mockery of a standoff.

Growing bold, Jake snapped at the killer. “What are you looking at?”

Ghostface tilted his head. It took Jake a while to realize his soulless mask was no longer aimed at the survivor’s face, but the shard in his hand. It took him even longer to realize that the wetness in his palm wasn’t sweat. It was blood. He had clung to it so hard that he cut himself.

With great reluctance, Jake let it go. The shard shattered against the floor. The last nail on his coffin had been hit.

The killer waited only for that. He picked Jake up like a sack of potato and Jake, who didn’t have the strength to struggle, let him. They left the bathroom, passing by one hook, then two. Jake saw smears of cooling blood on the floor, the walls and what looked suspiciously like a sprawling human’s silhouette, obscured by the many shadows of the dimly lit hallway, but his heart rate wouldn’t pick up no matter what. He hanged uselessly on Ghostface’s back. His nostrils flared at the smell of blood, cheap perfume, and… something else. Whatever it was, it turned his limbs into lead. 

Unannounced, he was dropped. Jake blinked the sleepiness out of his eyes. They widened when he saw where the killer had taken him.

“Y-you are giving me the hatch?” He said out loud.

Jake looked between Ghostface and the hatch. Its existence meant the others were dead; and he had been none the wiser. Jake knew Ghostface was a silent killer, preferring takingthem out when they least expected, but he had to be reminded of it every trial when a knife plunged into his back before he could see his attacker. He shivered.

“B-but why?”

Ghostface said nothing, tapping his knife against his thigh.

When he woke up at the campfire, it was like the heat was never there. It was a small blessing that the Entity let them have: it restored them to their normal state of health after a trial regardless of their performance.

Claudette was quick to enveloped him in a hug, leaping off her seat on the rotten tree stump and flying into his arms. Jake heard and felt her sobs shaking them both. “You’re alright. You’re alright. I was so worried.” She said between hiccups.

A few other survivors at the camp were watching them. Their curiosity was palpable. How had Jake escaped the Ghostface?

“How did you get out?” Dwight asked.

“He let me go.”

Absentmindedly, Jake realized - with Claudette’s Omegan scent around him - that the unknown smell on Ghostface had been that of his own kind, or at least a mimic of it.

Omegas found comfort in one another.

* * *

It was another quiet trial for Jake.

His anxious eyes flicked between the door to his left and the window to his right, both opening to dark corridors. When he was absolutely sure it was only his nerves imagining the shadows moving, he turned back to the generator. This was the last one - he had been keeping count. If he finished this one, they would get out. If there was still a “they”.

There weren’t many killers who could hide their presences. Michael could, but only for a short period of time in the beginning when he still wanted to stalk them. The survivors often joked that it was his own version of foreplay. Once he got into the mental state to maim, there was no missing him. The Pig and the Wraith could also hide themselves, although not all the time, and there would be telltale sounds giving them away no matter what. Jake hadn’t heard a single roar or bell since the start of the trial. That left only Ghostface.

He kept expecting a ghoulish mask to peek out of a corner at any time. Alas, his anticipation was in vain. The generator came to life; with it he heard the exit gates, their chimes echoing through the meat plants like beacons of hope.

Having seen one gate at the beginning of the trial, Jake made a run for it. He was reunited with Laurie and Jeff, both unscratched and very much alive. Despite the lack of bodily harm, they were far from untroubled. Their last member hadn’t arrived yet.

“Where is David?” Laurie asked, looking to the other Beta, “He was with you, right?”

“He was. We split up ‘cause he wanted to check the basement.” Jeff murmured. He was surprisingly soft spoken for a man his size. “It was a while ago. Round the time we finished the second generator I think.”

Laurie shook her head; the poor guy was stricken with guilt.“It’s not your fault, it’s just David being David.”

“We should look for him.” Jake suggested.

“Together.” Laurie added. Her brows drew together sternly. She hadn’t forgot the last trial, wherein her decision got 3 of them killed.

The maze like corridors were a breeze to them after myriad of trials spent in this place, navigating it like trapped mice for a mad scientist’s project. They descended the stairs, following Jeff’s brief description of where he last saw David.

A feeling of anxiety slowly builded up in the pit of Jake’s stomach, again caused by the wrongness of the situation. Where was King?Where was the killer?

It didn’t help that the facility stank of blood and stale meat. Not only did the ventilation system fail to get rid of those smells, it regurgitated them back at the survivors in every corner, every room, until they had to remind themselves not to breathe in too deeply in order to keep the nausea at bay.

He hid his nose behind his scarf, resorting to breathing through his mouth. They were nearing the storage room; the cold air conditioned air blew their way, bringing with it that horrible scent.

That was when he heard a groan, barely audible over the sounds of fans and generators. He stopped short.

There it was again.

“You heard that too?”Laurie spoke up, inclining her head of blond hair toward the wall to their right. The noise had come from there.

Jake clenched his teeth, already imagining the worst. “It’s the bathroom.” He said.

They looked among themselves severely. The meat plant’s labyrinthian layout meant that they had to cover lots of ground before getting to the bathroom’s entrance. The entire time, cries and groans rose out of the thin wall, mocking them with gruesome mental images of what could lay on the other side. They cursed because they couldn’t walk quickly enough. Were they to run, the corridor’s tiles would betray them and the killer would hear them coming.

They envisioned many horrible scenarios; none of which prepared them for the actual thing.

Fluorescent lightning bathed the room in a sickly glow. In the middle of it was a tangle of limbs and dark clothes and the origin of the obscene sounds. Jake didn’t know - refused to know - what he was seeing at first, until his frightful eyes landed on a mask laying a foot away from that writhing form. He saw Laurie covering her mouth in shock out of the corner of his eye. They’ve found David AND the killer.

The Englishman was covering Ghostface with his body, pushing him down onto the dirty tiles, his back facing them. His left hand pinned both of the killer’s wrists above his head while his right hand was… out of view. Under him, Ghostface wasn’t resisting; and Jake could smell why.

If he hadn’t covered his nose up earlier, he would be gagging now. The smell of an Omega in full blown heat mixing with that of rust and blood was pure foul. It assaulted his senses and threatened to bring him to his knees. In contrast, terror froze his legs, keeping him standing in place to watch the debauched display.

Jeff was the first to react. His burly arms circled David’s waist and he pulled him right off the killer.

“No!” Jeff told him as if he were still able to reason. “C’mon man, snap out of it!”

David only answered with a snarl. With his pupils blown wide from the pheromone in the air, he was only short of foaming at the mouth to look like a feral animal. But Jeff was as determined to keep him contained as David was to break free. Using his heavier build to his advantage, he shoved him roughly against the wall. It was with great difficulty that he kept him that way, powering through his thrashing and abuse until finally, the fight bled out of the Alpha and he slummed against Jeff.

“I’m taking him upstair, maybe he’ll calm down.” Jeff told the other two survivors, avoiding lookingdirectly at the person behind them.

Ghostface covered his eyes with one forearm. For all of his effort, there was no hiding the lower half of his flushed face or his sweat slicked black hair. His undone coat revealed a pale stomach. He looked too human like this. Too wrong.

Jake couldn’t on his conscience leave him bare and vulnerable. He kneeled in front of the killer and zipped up his coat. His mind was a muddled mess. This was his - their - tormentor. This man had stabbed them multiple times and left them on rusty hooks to die slowly and painfully; the one sudden act of kindness he gave Jake last trial wouldn’t change that fact. But it was still ugly to see biology turning against him, because that was something that could happen to Jake too. If they had been slower… Jake kept his line of sight strictly bellow Ghostface’s jaw and above his belt. He felt dirty touching the other Omega, even if it was only to help.

“M-mike, stop that.” Came a whisper that froze Jake right in his track.

He would’ve dismissed it as a figment of his imagination had Laurie’s soft gasp not confirmed its existence. He jerked his hands away, crimson coloring his cheeks.

Ghostface sighed. Too far gone to mind the survivors, his breath slowed and his body went lax under the effect of lethargy until it was impossible to tell whether he was asleep or not.

Helpless, Jake looked up at Laurie with shock still brimming in his eyes.

“Let’s go.” She said; her face adopted a thoughtful look unlike his.

“But-”

“You’ve done enough; and we have been in here long enough as well. You know it doesn’t like waiting.” She referred to the Entity. While unpredictable, survivors could always expect it to intervene if they took too long to leave after all the generators were done. Jake remembered too well the feeling of claws piercing and tearing into his body as punishments for being overly altruistic.

It forced survivors to pick between leaving a person behind and risking their lives in vain when exit gates were already available.

Jake bit his lower lip; a protest was already on the tip of his tongue, but he swallowed it back down.

“Do you think that Mike is…” He asked her on their way back to the camp. The trial was far behind them, but the impact it left on him was still there. He felt like he had left a survivor to die on a hook and not a killer.

“Oh, definitely.”

“This is so weird.”

“Isn’t it?” She laughed mirthlessly at his whimper.

The camp came into their view, already buzzing with a new gossip.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Danny Johnson is an Omega. Ghostface isn’t anything. 
> 
> It’s a good thing he is more inclined to be Danny than he is to be Ghostface around Michael

The new killer wore a cheap plastic mask and dark leather clothes fitted with weird floating straps. Michael thought he looked like a mouse, hiding in the shadows of Lampkin Lane like the rats infesting Lery’s and Hawkins. He would see glimpses of him behind random corners and windows and hear the crows cawing when he himself couldn’t have disturbed them. Then when he decided to investigate, like those rats, he skittered away. 

The new killer was a mouse, small, elusive, invasive and not welcome in Haddonfield, a pest that somehow found its way into the food cabinet. Michael was simultaneously the disgruntled owner who found bread crumbs littering his counter and the house cat that had to deal with said rodent.

However, unlike a mouse, he was anything but intimidated when Michael trapped him between himself and the side of a car. his voice was amused when he patted Michael’s cheek as if the other didn’t have a hand on his neck and could snap it in half at any given moment. 

“You got me, big guy.” A shit eating grin was definitely hidden behind his mask. Flashing lights on top of police cars shone on it. Red. Blue. Red. “The name is Danny. Now would you let me go?”

Perhaps he was ignorant of what Michael was, thinking himself invincible because he destroyed some measly survivors and hadn’t encountered another killer up until now. Perhaps he was just masochistic. Michael huffed, not quite figuring out what he was playing at but not quite caring either. The kitchen knife in his other hand felt heavy with potential. He hadn’t been summoned to a trial in a while. Michael twirled it, his eyes never leaving Danny, whose attention had shifted to the sharp weapon if the little incline of his head was anything to go by. 

Danny clamped both of his hands over Michael’s wrist, neither pushing nor pulling, simply holding on tightly until it almost hurt, like he just needed a reason to touch the taller killer. Michael was distracted by how small they were right next to his, whose span almost entirely covered Danny’s throat.

Michael couldn’t kill him, but he could teach him a lesson, and he could make it hurt. The pointy tip of his knife slowly sunk into the fabric of Danny’s coat until it tore the material, then broke skin, then… oh

It was fascinating how one normally could never smell blood when it was contained in the veins, easy as those were to cut and tear, but its scent came flooding the moment something ruptured. Michael pulled back his knife, seeing a generous amount of blood, dark and shiny, and took a whiff.

Omega.  
  


With indignation, Michael realized his heart was beating fast with primal excitement and his teeth itched with the urge to bite. It was new and it was puzzling. Judith had been an Omega, some survivors were Omega…

“What is it gonna be?” Whispered Danny breathlessly.

Had he known Michael would hesitate?

Michael hauled him up like he would with a survivor and marched straight toward the end of the road where the Fog always awaited. Danny should know better than showing his face again, Michael demonstrated by slashing a light pole with his knife. Next time, that pole would be him.

Of course the threat would fly right over his head. The border was so close, less than a foot away when,

Slap!

Michael froze up. Danny wiggled off his back and made a run for it, deranged laughters spilling out of his lips between pained wheezes. He had slapped the Shape’s ass! In seconds, the Fog swallowed him whole.

* * *

Danny Johnson never had a particular place that he was attached to.

Long before he picked up the mask, before he went from towns to towns, leaving behind a string of dead bodies in each and every of them, he was sitting in the passenger seat of a beat up truck, dozing off with his face planted against the window as his dad rambled about their new life in another city. 

Old man Johnson was a dreamer, he was also shit out of luck and patience. He was always chasing a new job opportunity, taking his son with him on trips after trips across North America, settling down perhaps one or two months at most at a time before taking him out of school and back on the road. 

“It would be different this time” He would say. “I’ve got a good offer in Baltimore.” 

At the end of the day, there would be better offers elsewhere and they would be moving again. Danny was always the new kid in his classes. By the time his old man dropped dead, tripping into a lake and hitting his head on the way down, his coworkers said, the damage had already been done. 

So it came as no surprise that when the Entity took him, it didn’t know how to shape a realm for him. There was nothing for it to work on, not like Phillip and Autohaven, Evan and his family estate, or Sally and Crotus Prenn Asylum… Its claws reached into his mind and pulled out blank. As the result, he simply appeared one day in the Fog, wandering into other killers’ domains. 

“Kid.” Danny singsonged without looking away from the tiny screen of his camera. “You are staring.”

Frank sputtered. “I’m not!” He said, jumping off the rock he was perching on, his feet made a crisp noise as they sunk into the snow. He wasn’t that much younger than Ghostface. A teen he might be, but Danny was still in his early twenties.

He was also an Omega, so no one could blame Frank that he was crushing, just a little.

Above them, they heard giggles. Danny craned his neck and sure enough Susie and Julie were leaning over the railing of the balcony, the former with a mischievous smile and the latter with feinted bored eyes. Joey was nowhere to be found.

Fuck teenagers.

He put his camera away with a sigh and frowned when he saw his own breath fogging up the air in front of him. Fuck Ormond as well. Danny never liked the cold much, but he didn’t really have many options.

The Clown’s realm was off limit, only because he couldn’t stand his putrid stench and he gave off a certain vibe. During their short encounter, his inky eyes had leered at Danny lecherously and he had invited the Ghostface to his caravan. Danny had declined. Even now, he didn’t know if Kenneth had made that offer because he had been able to tell his caste in spite of his meticulously applied scent damper and cologne, or if that had just been him being his creepy self. He wasn’t going to ask.

The Wraith’s junkyard was fine. Its resident ignored him and stayed out of sight most of the time. But where Philip was, Evan would soon follow and Evan was territorial and possessive, as Alphas tended to be.

Speaking of Alpha.

“You’re making that face again.” Frank made a face. “Creepy, man.”

Danny sometimes regretted taking his mask off around the Legions, or hanging out with them in the first place. But beggars couldn’t be choosers. “Just thinking.” He said.

He remembered Michael’s hand on his neck, the strength behind it and Most of all, his pheromone. That mouth watering scent. He would swoon if he wasn’t already sitting. For once, he was thankful for Ormond’s frigid temperature because he was positively shaking. 

Susie cocked her head. “Whatcha thinking about?” 

“Met our local quiet Alpha. We had a nice chat, I may see him again sometimes. The suburb is definitely nicer than this shit hole.” 

Susie cooed and Julie crossed her arms, muttering something along the line of “And yet here you are.” Frank raised his eyebrows in surprise. He asked:“Michael? You went to Lampkin? How did you get out?”

“He did give me this lovely stab as a parting gift.” Danny put his hand over where he had been stabbed. It had hurt like hell then, but fuck if it hadn’t been hot. There was nothing there anymore, the Entity made sure that only it could permanently maim them. 

Frank said, “You’re sick.” 

How ironic that a high school dropout murderer called a serial killer insane. Danny would not deny it, however.

* * *

Danny Johnson was an Omega. That fact used to ignite worry in his dad, not because he would have to fight off knot heads who wanted to get in his son’s pants. Oh no. He was concerned that he would have to take time off work to watch him when Danny would one day have his heats. He needn’t to worry, death claimed him long before that day. And Danny spent his first heat in a locked room in an orphanage. It was terrible because one could never be truly alone in an orphanage. There were kids and broken teenagers like him in every corners. Their scents seeped in through the crack under the door and drove him crazy with need because he could always smell some Alphas, but he could never get them.

But besides the inconvenience of heat, which he later remedied with unorthodox methods, Danny never lost sleep over what he was like his dad. Danny Johnson was an Omega, so was Jed Olsen and other personas he adopted. People rarely suspect his motivations because of how he smelled. If he fluttered his eyelashes just right, he could get away with anything. 

Now Ghostface was a different story. He couldn’t be an Omega, Alpha or Beta. Ghostface must be anonymous. His victims must die with total oblivion about who and what he was. It was part of his shtick, what made him all the more terrifying.

Oh and he was less inclined to be Ghostface and more inclined to be Danny around Michael.

Much to his delight, they had reached a truce. It had happened out of the blue one visit. Michael decided he liked watching him more than killing him. With no warning in advance, their little game of cat and mouse ended, swept under an imaginary carpet. He followed Danny like a shadow whenever the smaller killer came by, never speaking a word, never getting too close. It would always be Danny who talked and decided where to go. It was fine by him. He enjoyed being in the lead, having always been a little narcissistic

But he made sure not to push any boundary, such as going into the house with a Jack-O-lantern on the front porch. 

Danny was going over pictures of his victims again when he felt and heard hot breaths right net to his ear. He half turned, coming nose to nose (mask to mask) with Michael who had at some point opted to stand right behind the bench he was sitting on, his shadow looming over him. 

“Did you just smell me?”

As always, Michael gave no verbal confirmation, but he could deduce it was a yes when he heard a loud sniffing sound. 

Danny tut-tutted. “It’s not gonna work, silly boy. Here, let me help you.” He pulled back a little to get some space between them then without hesitation, took his mask off and pulled back his hood, revealing the face of a pale young man with short black hair. 

“Like what you see?”He hoped he did. Danny angled his head in a way so that the other killer got the best line of sight of his smooth neck.

There was a pause, then Michael gave in to the invitation. He leaned in until his head nested neatly in the spot where the Omega’s shoulder and neck met. Without mask and hood, both of which were sprayed thoroughly with scent damper along with his clothes, he could smell Danny’s natural scent, an intoxicating sweetness of caramel and honeysuckles that made him want to bite, to claim.

He quickly took a step back, breathing through his mouth. The scent on his knife had been muddled with the metallic tang blood, this was more potent.

“Well?” Danny teased. “If it makes you feel any better, you smell like a snack yourself too, big guy.”

A thought came to him. Maybe Danny wasn’t a mouse after all, he was plenty cunning enough to be a stray tom. Maybe he had been the one hunting Michael in this game of cat and mouse they played and not the other way around.

* * *

“You’re going into heat soon.”Flatly, Julie said. She didn’t warm up to him as much as Susie and Frank did, most likely due to her possessiveness over the leader of the gang of misfits. But she still liked him to some degree because Frank liked him, and she liked what he liked. And so she cared about her older friend-but-not-really.

“You can tell?” 

“Don’t smell like it yet, but you’re acting like you’re gonna. You smeared your pheromone all over the place. You purred when Frank touched your arm.” There was accusation in her voice.

“Maybe I was messing with him.” Danny chuckled. Nevertheless, he knew she was right. 

She gave him a sympathetic nod. “You can stay here. There is a cabin further up the mountain. We take Susie there when she has her… you know.”

He thought of the orphanage room and said: “I don’t spend it alone.” At her expression, he quickly added: “Don’t worry, your boy toy is safe. I’m thinking of someone else.”

“Michael?”

Danny wished. What he would give for that man to hold him down and get his way with him. But what he had with the the killer right now was delicate. He still didn’t know where they stood. Michael was unpredictable, the last thing he wanted was to break what process he had in their slowly built nonexistent relationship. 

  
He could use a substitute. They had plenty of Alpha killers. Phillip wouldn’t object, neither would Evan if he was persuasive enough. If he played his card right, he could get both of them at the same time, even. Amanda would be down for it too, as a bonus point, she seemed like the type to get a little freaky.

* * *

Time was insignificant. It always had been, he had hardly felt it in the mental institution back then, it meant even less to him now, in a world where everything was constant. But Michael had been counting, somehow, despite having nothing physical to mark the passage of time, the sun never rose over this version of Lampkin Lane and none of the clocks ever worked. He had been counting, and he knew that Danny was late. It was like he had his own predetermined internal timer for the killer. It started ticking the moment he left and it ended when he returned. But the timer had hit zero for quite some time now and Danny wasn’t here yet.

The rampant Fog mocked him. Fanned by the wind, thin tendrils of it reached out, swirling around his ankles like they wanted to drag him in.

As he was about to head back to his house, a familiar face emerged from the Fog. Danny dressed as he always did, but he walked with a limp, and something didn’t smell right. Michael clenched his fists, realizing what it was when he got closer. Another Alpha. 

“Did you miss me- Hey!” 

One hand grabbed Danny’s hood and tucked hard, the other knocked his mask right off, flinging it onto the ground somewhere. Michael took in the sight of his flushed face and disheveled hair. His eyes trailed lower and lower and there, over the same spot his head had rested on ages ago, a hickey burned into his vision. Its sight was enough to make him furious.

Danny scarcely had time to react when he was turned around and shoved into a wall. He reeled his elbow back in an attempt to hit, but stopped when he felt something wet and hot over the skin of his shoulder. 

Michael licked long stripes over the exposed area, picking up the salty taste of sweat. He moved up the column of his neck, then downward and forward until he was licking the hollow above his collarbone.At last, he stopped at the angry red hickey. He bit down on it just hard enough to scrape skin then sucked hard. Danny whimpered a protest, cried out, arched and his legs gave out under him, spasming in futile. Only Michael’s arms on his hips and teeth wounding shoulder kept him up. And he kept chewing, sucking, licking, like he wanted to eat Danny whole. Fuck, Danny would let him. 

But alas, Michael stopped. Danny watched him over his shoulder, seeing a strong jawline, pink lips wet with saliva and a few strands of blond hair peeking out under the hiked up mask. He let Danny go in favor of adjusting it.

“You…” Danny tried to catch his breath. “You are jealous?”

Michael paused. 

“You are!” 

He was grinning like an idiot, but he didn’t care. “If I had known this makes you tick, I’d have slept with the good doctor much sooner.”

“...”

“Sorry, sorry.”

He licked his lips, his eyes half lidded in what he considered a sultry way. According to Michael, he just looked goofy, but strangely endearing nonetheless. “You know, I’m open for company next time, with the right incentive.”

Michael mulled over his words. They were all a ruse, Danny would agree to his offer no matter what. He had made his interest painfully clear over the spawn of their odd relationship. Regardless, Michael humored him. He held the edge of his own mask and slowly pulled it up.

There was an appreciative whistle. “Well well, I guess I am convinced.” 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of personally spin in this one. I don’t know how to feel about it, tbh.


End file.
